Survivor's Guilt
by Sue-Drae
Summary: Lucy hadn't felt as if she'd lived for years. Torn away from Narnia, losing her siblings, even living with Susan- nothing was right. She alone knew the truth of Narnia, that it WAS real, and that knowledge made it all the worse. One-shot, post-Narnia, Lucy-centric, definitely my angstiest work


Lucy knew why you weren't to bring anything from Narnia now. That small little vial that had always seemed so good and innocent now, as it lay harmlessly on her dusty shelf, was now the cruelest form of insult. Pressed into her hands before walking willingly into the ocean tunnel, Lucy had doubted that she would be able to keep her cordial. She doubted it so much, in fact, that she didn't fight to keep it in her hands as she tried to swim to the surface when the water tossed her around once more. Even so, that small vial was persistent. She had hardly taken the time to catch her breath when she noticed the cordial lying on the painting that had taken the three to Narnia.

At first, the vial had been a great souvenir. It reminded her of the good memories she shared with everyone she'd met in Narnia and reminded her that _she_ was Queen Lucy the Valiant, something that no one could take away from her. But then, as it began to collect dust, it forced her to remember that she could no longer return, just as Peter and Susan and Edmund could never revisit the lands they'd reigned over for a wondrous but fleeting fourteen years. It had her keep envisioning Aslan's golden mane in the corner of her eye, something that, even now, would drive the air from her lungs.

Looking at that seemingly innocent vial, Lucy's hand hesitated over it. She had been so close to finished with packing her things when that old vial caught her eye. Years had past since she'd allowed herself to think of it. Thinking of it only reminded her of what she had lost, for it was indeed a loss, and that only made her miserable and angry at the world around her for not being the lands she'd once roamed and at the people for being simple humans and at the animals for not being able to speak. Being angry at such things only made her disappointed in herself, as she knew that such feelings would make Aslan disappointed in her, so she had forced her attention away from the half-empty vial containing cordial made from the juice of the Fire-Flowers that grew only in the mountains of the Sun.

Could she leave the cordial in the house in which she had lived since returning to England after her last trip to Narnia? Could she abandon it, lying to herself that she had simply overlooked it if she ever thought of it again?

Staring at the warm red liquid, Lucy knew that she could do no such thing. It would be worse, she knew, to know that she had left behind the one piece of her true home that she'd been allowed to bring with her to England. To just leave it so unceremoniously... It was too similar to how she had lost her family, with the exception of Susan, to that horrific train accident.

No, she had to bring it with her. Susan had no recollection of Narnia, making that small vial truly the last thing she had from her days as Queen Lucy the Valiant of the Glistening Eastern Sea. Without Peter, without Edmund, there was nothing else to reminisce on. And, though it hurt, Lucy knew that she would reminisce about it, if only to herself. It would hurt her to remember but it would kill her to forget.

Heart and mind set, Lucy tucked the vial back into its old leather case and carefully placed it into her handbag where it would be safe

Hardly sparing the unfurnished room another glance, the young woman turned on her heel and walked away from the place that had been her house, not her home. She had one home, and no place in England, America, or anywhere else could compare.

"Lucy, _there_ you are!" a familiar and comforting maternal voice greeted her happily. Lucy forced a smile to her lips as her sister took her in her arms and, for quite some time, seemed content to squeeze the air from her lungs. When Susan finally released her, Lucy resisted the urge to rub at her ribs.

"Hello, Susan... Are we ready to leave?" Lucy asked, hoping Susan would overlook her cool tone. Uncharacteristically, Susan did just that, giving Lucy an easy-going smile.

"We are. Oh, Lucy, you'll adore America, I know you will. There is so much going on at any moment. There hardly seems to be a moment to spare. And of course you must meet James. He's been waiting to make your acquaintance since I first told him of the girl who dreamed up Narnia."

Accompanying Susan's words was a mirthful sheen in her eyes that only made Lucy's heart throb painfully. As she had already known, Susan's remembrance of Narnia was less exact than a dream from years ago. She only recalled their trip into the wardrobe and their journey from the train station as mere games that she had played with her siblings. Games, not reality.

Distantly recognizing James as the given name of the Lieutenant Henley who had recently invited Susan to this or that social gathering, Lucy nodded, trying to muster up an excited look. She allowed her arm to be taken up yet again and let herself be lead away by her sister, casually falling into a mostly one-sided conversation about American fashion and celebrities.

Not for the first time, Lucy found herself staring blankly at her ceiling as she tried to sleep. No matter the time zone or country, if she wasn't at Cair Paravel, it was hard to fall asleep.

She briefly considered getting up to get a glass of water, but hesitated. Susan's room was on the way to the kitchen and she did not want to risk waking up the older woman. It would only serve to revive Susan's fear that she was suffering from nightmares. Nightmares would be a logical explanation for why Lucy couldn't sleep, but it was so much deeper than that. Lucy was aware that she would not dream of awaking in that hospital bed, horribly wounded and barely conscious enough to hear that her brothers, cousin, and friends were killed in the accident. No, Lucy would dream of seeing them all, alive and well. She would see Edmund and Eustace playing a game of chess with golden pieces modeled after various Narnians and their four rulers. She would see Peter practicing his swordplay against Caspian. She would see Susan practicing archery against the finest Narnia had to offer, beating them without any discernable effort. She would see Mr. Tumnus playing his flute. And she would see herself lying on the grass, leaning against Aslan's shoulders as she told him about her day. It hurt because everything she would dream would have happened if only she and her family had been able to stay. If only they hadn't left her.

But Susan didn't know that and, if Lucy had anything to do with it, she would never become aware of what really plagued her at night. If Susan knew, she would laugh Lucy's dreams away, accidentally mocking her only remaining family's pain.

No. Susan could not know.

Lucy sighed softly, turning over in the too-warm blankets and, for once, wishing for snow...


End file.
